


The Yule Ball

by MoonlightBreeze



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty Schmoop, Comfort/Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Good Draco Malfoy, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Light Angst, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Harry Potter, Romantic Fluff, Teen Angst, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Yule Ball (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21599971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBreeze/pseuds/MoonlightBreeze
Summary: What if Harry took Draco Malfoy to the Yule Ball instead? A fluff fest with a light sprinkling of angst on the side.Please, god, do not read this if you've read any of my other fanfiction. I swear I can write better than this. Don't judge me. (This piece is terrible.)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 212





	The Yule Ball

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! This is my first Harry Potter fic. Feel free to leave me any comments and feedback you might have! I hope you like it! 
> 
> ~ Em

“So you will find a bloody dance partner, Potter!” Professor McGonagall snapped at Harry. He nodded quickly, not willing to risk her wrath if he continued to put up a fight. He was about to leave when a thought occurred to him. 

“Professor?” 

“Hmm?” she said, not turning to face him. 

“I-I don’t like girls,” Harry said bashfully. Professor McGonagall laughed. 

“Well, you will in time. For now, just pretend, or go with one of your friends for Merlin’s sake.” 

“No, as in, I don’t like girls. I like boys.” 

“Oh!” The professor had finally turned to face him, shock evident on her face. The minute of fluster did not last long however; soon she was back to her severe self. 

“Well, girl or boy, Potter, find a dance partner!” Harry nodded, a smile breaking out over his face. He had been fully expecting to be told that he was required to bring a girl. This news made him feel ever-so-slightly better about having to open the ball.

***

Harry knew he had to strike fast. If he waited too long to ask him, he would say yes to someone else. After all, who didn’t want to go to the dance with the Slytherin Prince himself? 

Harry wiped his shaking hands on his robes and took a deep breath. It was now or never. He walked toward where Malfoy was hanging out on the wall, his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle, surrounding him.

“Uh, M-Malfoy?” Harry asked, trying to sound stern and hide the shake in his voice. “Could I have a word? Alone?” He shot Crabbe and Goyle despicable looks. No matter how much he fancied Malfoy, he would never like them.

Malfoy shot him a suspicious look, but nevertheless followed Harry into an empty corridor to talk. “So, what’s this about?” The Malfoy heir crossed his arms, addressing Harry as if he were some sort of criminal that he shouldn’t be associating with.

“Uh...um...I was w-wondering if...maybe you’d like to..gotheballwithme?” 

“Didn’t catch that last bit,” Malfoy said, putting his hand to his ear, his signature smirk plastered on his face. Harry took another long, deep breath, whether to steady himself or to avoid punching Malfoy in the face to wipe off that arrogant smirk, he didn’t know.

“I was wondering if...maybe...you’d like to go to the ball with me?” He squeaked on his last few words but knew Malfoy had heard them because a large, boyish grin took over his face for an instant before he regained his composure.

“Took you long enough,” Malfoy said, smirking. “I was beginning to think I was going to have to ask.” This took Harry by complete surprise, and he did a double take at the other boy’s words. 

“Y-you would have asked me if I hadn’t asked you?” 

Malfoy chuckled. “Well, sure. There’s no rule on who has to ask if it’s a bloke asking a bloke, now is there?” 

Harry smiled. “No, I guess there isn’t.”

To his surprise, Malfoy smiled back - a real, tentative, shy smile. Harry found himself thinking about just how cute he looked with a real smile on his face.

“So, I’ll be at Gryffindor tower at seven.” Malfoy’s cool demeanor was back. “You better wear your best dress robes if you want to keep up with me, Potter; I dress to impress.”

With that and a swirl of his robes, Malfoy was gone, leaving Harry feeling quite dazed but happier than he had been in a long time.

***

On the night of the ball, everyone was scrambling to get ready and find their partners. Harry, especially, was eager to find his date. Heeding Malfoy’s words, he had changed into the dress robes that Mrs. Weasley bought for him in Diagon Alley, and attempted to tame his hair, but when that failed, he simply left it in its usual disheveled state.

By the time Harry walked downstairs, most people had already gone. “There you are!” Ron exclaimed. He was waiting for Harry at the foot of the stairs with his date, Padma Patil, who looked none too happy to be going with him. “I swear, it’s like you’re a girl with how long you took getting ready!”

There was a hint of curiosity in Ron’s voice that Harry chose to ignore; for obvious reasons, he hadn’t told anyone just who he was taking to the ball.

“You shouldn’t have waited for me,” Harry said, looking around and seeing, to his disappointment but not total surprise, no Malfoy. “I still have to go and collect my date. You two go on to the Great Hall.” 

Ron made a noise of annoyance and asked, “Where’s Hermione?” 

“How should I know?” Harry asked. “I was upstairs.” 

They both looked to Padma, who shook her head. “I haven’t seen her.”

“Oh, well,” Ron said. “She’ll turn up sooner or later. Harry’s right; we better get going.” He and Padma turned to go out through the portrait hole. “Harry, you coming, mate?” 

“Yeah,” Harry said, rushing through. He led Ron and Padma to the entrance hall and said, “Well, I’ll see you guys later.” 

“Yeah, see you later,” Ron said, looking at Harry suspiciously.

Harry waited until he was sure Ron wasn’t watching him anymore, and then headed for the Slytherin dormitories, hoping beyond hope that it all hadn’t been a dream, or that Malfoy wasn’t standing him up. It seemed all too likely that all of this was just some big joke and Malfoy would rather swim in hot garbage than go to the Yule Ball with Harry.

Thoughts circled his head, putting him into a state of paranoid hyperactivity, and due to this, Harry arrived at the dungeons faster than he ever had before when he had to get down there for Potions with Snape.

Speak of the devil, Harry thought as he saw Snape coming towards him. He quickly turned a corridor and hid, knowing that if Snape saw him, he would make him go back upstairs or demand an explanation as to why Harry was down in Slytherin territory, neither of which Harry wanted to do.

When he was sure Snape had passed, Harry hurried in the direction of what he thought was the Slytherin dorm area; it wasn’t like he had ever explored the dungeons beyond Potions class before.

However, when Harry turned another corner after the entryway to the Potions classroom, he heard soft muttering coming from behind a painting of a serpent and knew that must be it. He rapped softly on the painting, which hissed at him in displeasure. The mumbling from within ceased, and quick footsteps could be heard.

Someone muttered “Tarantula pies!” and the painting swung outward. “Damn it, Crabbe, I told you to leave me alone, and why in the name of Salazar can you never remember the password -” Malfoy stopped mid-sentence as he caught sight of Harry.

Harry took the time in which Malfoy was stunned to examine him. He was wearing a white button up shirt and a tie, and robes with a ruff and high collar were thrown carelessly over his arm. His brow was creased and he looked worried, to say the least.  
“You done checking me out?” Malfoy asked, but couldn’t quite get up the playful, arrogant tone that Harry was used to. His voice cracked on the last syllable, and Harry watched, his heart thumping with pain, as Malfoy turned away, tears brimming in his eyes.

“I can’t go,” Malfoy said thickly, his back still to Harry. “I’m sorry.” 

“Wait, what?” Harry hurried into the Slytherin common room through the portrait hole after the other boy. “Why can’t you go?” His heart felt heavy as he watched his date pace around the common room, which was decorated in the traditional green, before finally settling down in an overstuffed green armchair in front of the fire. 

Cautiously, Harry walked over and placed himself on the arm of the chair, looking down at Malfoy. The Slytherin had his hands clasped tightly together, his white-blonde hair sticking up at odd angles, as though he’d been running his hands through it. 

“Malfoy…” Harry started, and trailed off. “Malfoy, I don’t understand. Why can’t you go?” It was a good few seconds before Malfoy answered. 

“My father...he-he can’t find out about this,” Draco (What? Malfoy…) said softly. “He’d...he’d...I don’t know what he’d do. But it wouldn’t be good. To think, that I went to the ball not only with a boy, but with The Boy Who Lived?” He chortled darkly. “I’m all but disowned.”

“Hey,” Harry said, grabbing the Slytherin boy’s hand on impulse. Draco (Malfoy, dammit!) looked up at him through thick lashes, taking him in. “It’s okay. It’ll be fine. Your father won’t ever know that this happened.” He rubbed his thumb in soothing circles on Draco’s (Mal - oh, screw it) hand. “No one will tell him; it’s not like any of the teachers or students here are on your dad’s Christmas card list.” Draco cracked a small smile at the other boy’s weak attempt at humor.

“But...Harry…” Harry took a sharp breath at the use of his first name instead of ‘Potter’, “What about after this? I-I don’t want this ball to be the last time we...see each other...like...this.”

Harry grabbed Draco’s other hand and looked into his beautiful, mysterious, grey eyes. “I don’t want it to be either,” he said firmly. “And we can figure that out. We can. We can keep this a total secret if you want to. I mean, if you want to, we can just say that the teachers forced us to go together tonight as a practical joke. No one has to know. We don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to.”

Draco nodded at his words and took a deep, calming breath. “Okay. Okay, you’re right.” He stood up and hurried into his dress robes before straightening his hair into the picture of perfection he usually was. Harry had to consciously remind himself not to drool at the sight of him.

“Shall we?” Draco asked, smiling, as he offered Harry his arm. Harry laughed and took it. The two walked upstairs, arm-in-arm.

***

By the time they reached the Great Hall, the ceremony was about to start. Although their arms never separated, at the sight of all of the people inside the hall, and the champions with their partners waiting anxiously in the wings to walk out into the aisle, Draco started showing signs of nervousness, fidgeting with his collar and Harry’s dress robes.

“Hey.” Harry stopped to talk to Draco alone before they went to join the other champions. “Hey, remember, we can always lie.” 

The Slytherin Prince took another deep breath and, seeming to have come to a decision, said, “No.” 

“What?” Harry asked, fearing that Draco had decided to back out of the ball after all. 

“No,” Draco repeated. “I don’t want to lie. We’ll walk in there and broadcast that we are here together and if people don’t like that, that’s their problem. It’s nobody’s business but ours, anyway.”

“Damn straight,” Harry said, a broad grin taking over his face. With that, he and Draco walked out to join the other champions.

The first thing that Harry noticed was that, to his utter shock, Viktor Krum’s partner was none other than Hermione! He was astonished; he and Ron had spent weeks trying to get Hermione to tell them who she was going with. And to think she was going with Krum!

The next thing that Harry noticed was that Hermione no longer looked like Hermione; her usually-bushy hair was straightened and done up in an elegant knot on her head, and she was a beauty in periwinkle robes.

“Looking good, there, Granger,” Draco called out appreciatively. His usual playful tone was back, although it was slightly shaky, giving off the fact that he was still nervous. Harry smiled at him to hopefully reassure the other boy, and as a thank-you for his obvious decision to be nice to Harry’s friends. Harry knew that his instinct would be to insult Hermione and probably Ron, too, in order to keep up appearances, but Draco seemed to have reached the same conclusion Harry had; the Slytherin Prince was at the Yule Ball with Harry Potter. Appearances had basically just crashed to the ground and been stomped on.

Hermione looked up at the sound of her name, took one look at Harry and Draco, and did a double take. Harry didn’t blame her; of all the people he could have taken to the ball, the last person anyone would expect him to take was Draco Malfoy.

To Harry’s surprise, Hermione recovered from the shock of seeing him with Draco rather quickly; quickly enough to say back, “Since when is it Granger, not ‘mudblood’?” Draco cringed at her words, all the memories of the times he had insulted her to keep up his act coming to mind. Harry found his hand and joined it with his, squeezing reassuringly. Draco gave him a soft smile of appreciation before turning to address Hermione.

“I guess I’m just feeling nice today,” he called back, throwing a pointed look at Harry and swinging their hands. Hermione’s gaze went to their hands and back up to both boys’ faces, and a look of understanding crossed her face. She smiled and didn’t say anything else.

At that exact moment, fanfares began to play from the Great Hall. Draco squeezed Harry’s hand, although he looked incredibly nervous as well. Professor Dumbledore could be heard talking loudly across the hall, and Harry tuned out most of what he was saying until he heard him say, “And now, let us welcome our champions!” 

Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies went first. Eyes followed them all the way down the aisle, although most of the eyes were fixed on Fleur; not too many people were interested in Roger, the captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, when the part-veela, beautiful Fleur was beside him.

After that, Krum and Hermione walked out, and Harry smiled amusedly as eyes turned to stare at Hermione. Even he had to admit, the change was fantastic. Not to mention that no one expected to see her with Krum. Ron, especially, was gaping in awe.

Cedric and Cho, both of whom gave Harry and Draco small smiles as they glided past, were called next. Finally, it was Harry and Draco’s turn.

Harry held out his arm for Draco, and Draco, shaking, gripped onto it like it was his lifeline. “It’s going to be fine,” Harry whispered. The other boy nodded, but his face said that he wasn’t entirely sure of that. 

“Harry Potter!” 

Harry took a deep breath, gave his partner a reassuring smile, and stepped into the entrance hall. 

As all eyes turned to stare at them, Harry felt Draco trembling on his arm. “It’s okay,” Harry whispered. “Just breathe. Focus on me. It’s okay.” After a moment’s pause, he added, “I’ve got you, Draco.”

The Slytherin Prince relaxed slightly, leaning into Harry’s touch. The fanfare kept playing as both boys walked down the long, carpeted aisle to join the other champions at the front of the room. As they walked, they heard chatter all around them.

“What is Harry doing with him?”

“What is Draco doing with him?”

“Are they together?”

“I thought they hated each other!”

“Didn’t he dress up as a dementor once to try and scare Harry?”

“I wonder if they were forced to come with each other.”

“Are they really like, a couple?”

“No way!”

“It can’t be!”

And then, finally, a single voice, although neither Draco nor Harry could see who it belonged to, (imagine it as the voice of all Drarry shippers everywhere) said: “Finally!”

That “Finally!” was ultimately what gave both Harry and Draco the courage to complete the walk down the aisle to where the other champions stood with their partners. Harry noted, with amusement, that all of the teachers looked just as shocked as the students, excepting Professor Dumbledore, who sent Harry and Draco a barely discernible wink.

The ball started with a bang, and soon, Harry found himself tripping over his own feet as he tried to keep up with Draco’s dance moves. “Honestly, Harry, you’d think you would’ve at least learned how to dance before inviting me to a ball,” Draco drawled good-naturedly. 

“As I recall, you were pretty eager to accept,” Harry teased back. “I don’t remember you asking if I had two left feet or not.” 

“Okay, fair.”

Before long, the opening dances were over, and everyone in the crowd was mingling, some dancing, some talking, some running and screaming. (that last one might have just been Seamus. He somehow managed to catch his dress robes on fire)

“Ready?” Harry asked Draco. 

“Almost,” Draco replied. Harry looked at him in confusion. Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and said, “Now I’m ready.” 

Harry smiled affectionately. “You’re really cheeky, you know.” 

“I know.”

With that, the pair dived headfirst into the fire.

The instant Draco and Harry walked into the crowd, they were immediately bombarded with questions.

“Are you here together?”

“When did this happen?”

“Are you, like, a thing?”

“How?”

“When?”

“What?”

To every question, Harry looked at Draco, who nodded in permission, and replied, “We like each other. We’re here together.”

By the end of the night, Harry was extraordinarily tired of answering people’s questions, and so was Draco. Thankfully, Ron and Hermione had disappeared in the crowd, although Harry knew he would have hell to face when he returned to Gryffindor Tower.

For now, he and Draco were inside the same empty corridor that Harry had asked Draco to the ball in.

“So, uh, tonight was fun,” Draco said. Seeing Harry’s skeptical look, he quickly amended, “Well, it was as fun as it could have been with everyone on our arses.” 

“Touche.”

“I’d like to do it again sometime,” Draco said shyly. 

“Me too,” Harry whispered, moving a little closer to the other boy in the moonlit corridor. 

“There’s another Hogsmeade weekend coming up,” Draco said. “Maybe we could meet at The Three Broomsticks and have butterbeer together?” 

Harry’s face broke out in a smile. “Yeah, I think that would be a wonderful second date.” 

“Great,” Draco said, drawing even closer. “I wanted to ask you something else, too, Harry.” 

“What’s that?” Harry said, a trifle breathlessly. 

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Of course I will, Draco.” 

For a minute, both boys were silent, staring at each other’s lips, mere inches from each other now. Harry’s knees were quaking with anticipation. A million thoughts were running through his head so fast that he couldn’t pick out one to focus on. He was waiting, waiting for Draco to make a move.

Finally, finally, Draco closed the small distance between the two of them and pressed his lips to Harry’s.


End file.
